


Meet Up, Meet Cute

by Delphinapterus



Category: New York Minute (2004)
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Developing Relationship, Drugs, F/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Parental Expectations, Post-Canon, over 1000 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-01
Updated: 2010-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-08 14:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphinapterus/pseuds/Delphinapterus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead Roxy spices the story up, adds a twist and it's hot rock music about strangers and sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet Up, Meet Cute

Roxy writes a song about how they met. Trey likes it but he's glad she never tells about throwing his mother's dog out a hotel room window. He doesn't know if he'd survive if his mother ever found out about that. Their private version has a section about Reinaldo and his debut as a potato in a game of hot potato but that story never leaves them (and Jane will never tell), never gets sung to anyone because it's special and it's their story and not for the world to devour. Instead Roxy spices the story up, adds a twist and it's hot rock music about strangers and sex. It's B&amp;E and running wild through New York. It's hot rain, wet clothes, and laughter. It is confessional song writing that really isn't confession of anything. If anyone asks, and they do because he's Roxy's boyfriend and Senator Lipton's son, Trey just says he supports Roxy's music completely and never denies that her confessions are true soul baring rock.

Roxy writes songs about breaking up and taking back; songs about drugs, and sex, and parties. She spins stories of spiraling into a heroin daze and fucking in elevators. That song's latest mix (a huge rave club favorite) plays in the background as Trey kisses his way up Roxy's legs, over her pointed hip bones, and up to her breasts so that he can take her nipple into his mouth. He sucks at it gently, then moves back down her body until his lips press against her and he can taste their combined cum. He licks at her, gentle and sure, using just the right pressure because they've done this enough times that he knows exactly where to go slow, where to flick, where to let her feel just a hint of teeth. He knows her body just as she knows his.

They've never lost themselves in white powder cut on a mirror but that's the sort of thing that sells because nobody wants to hear about how Trey is sweet and Roxy likes to send him silly little text messages just to say hi. Nobody wants to hear that Trey makes Roxy chocolate coffee in the morning and brings it to her in bed when she's still tired from playing a concert the night before or that Roxy lets him be Trey and nothing more, no pressure to do something important and noteworthy, just the understanding that if he wants to do something she won't make fun of him for it, even if it isn't world-shatteringly important. He can show his writing and know that she'll be honest about it just like he will be about hers because each of them knows that the other just wants to help. Trey helps Roxy spin her stories and she gives him the courage to submit his work to a publisher. He never shows his mother, never tells her anything, until the book has been printed because he can't stand that she'll just look at him sadly and cuddle Reinaldo because she thinks he's wasting his potential.

He could take over his mother's seat and become a senator in a dark suit and somber tie. But senators don't have rock star girlfriends who talk about their wild life in national magazines and pose semi-nude in cheesecake photo shoots for _Maxim_ and _Rolling Stone_. Trey keeps the picture of Roxy lying nude by a pool, her golden skin glistening with water as her arm slides over her chest so that her fingers just hide her nipple, in a frame by their bed. Roxy doesn't mind but insists that she has to have one of him to match hers so they find a discrete photographer and he takes Trey's picture. After that on their bedside table Roxy in her golden glory is next to Trey lying back on a rumpled blanket with the grass green against its dark edges. In the photo he's naked and proud with a hand curled over his cock in a way that just stops short of being modest. His lips are swollen from Roxy's kisses and shiny from gloss. Senators don't pose nude looking wanton and sated. They don't have live in girlfriends they have wives. Wives who wear pastels, do charity work, and worry about the state of the nation's children. Roxy's lyrics get the group hauled up for corrupting the youth of today and the black and white parental advisory stickers get slapped onto the front of all their cds.

The band celebrates their sky rocketing sales with a party that even Jane has fun at although she still worries that Roxy is going to implode like the other singers; leaving behind memories of a promising career that died from too much partying and not enough music. With Trey at Roxy's side Jane doesn't have to worry like she did when it was just the two of them because Trey, for all his fear of his mother, is grounded. Jane trusts him not to let Roxy jump without looking no matter what Roxy's lyrics might say to the contrary.

So Roxy plays songs filled with sex, and pain, and laughter, and doesn't spill her secrets for anyone but Trey who keeps them locked away in his heart where they won't be splattered across the tabloids for the world to eat. Roxy and Trey met up, met cute, and fell in love. Roxy propositioned Trey when she burgled his hotel room and he accepted because what man wouldn't when he's offered sex with a tiny blond with perky tits? They fucked around and maybe it's turning into love or maybe it's all just a twisted game. Roxy and the band release a music video where they look like they've been dipped into shiny black PVC and Roxy struts on stilettos over to her drums. Montages of dark hazy clubs with half seen images of bondage cut through the band playing in a dungeon filled with writhing bodies covered in paint. The next day Trey appears in public with bruises around his wrists and the tabloids bring in experts to identify them as being made by restraints. Late that night, after the story has broken, Roxy kisses around his wrist in silent thank-you. Trey pulls her up and kisses her, slow and gentle, like the first time in New York. He tells her to stop being guiltily over the bruises — it was fun getting them. Roxy and Trey have created Roxy and Trey who aren't them, just stand in protectors for them; they hide behind them, giggling and whispering and in love.


End file.
